


Home Is Wherever I'm With You

by exbex



Series: Let Me Go Home [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Fourth of July, Future Fic, M/M, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8373343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex





	

It’s still early enough on the east coast that Kent gives in to the inevitable and dials Jack’s number.

“Hey, Ken-“ but Kent interrupts him as he paces back and forth in front of his window, the Vegas lights glaring bright and gaudy. “I need you to tell me how to keep Eric’s parents from hating me.”

“I’m fine, how are you?” Jack responds. Kent ignores the sarcasm and drags his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands. “I’m a hot mess, Jack. You have to help me out here.”

“I fail to see how anything is unusual…”

“Fuck you, Zimms, I know Bitty’s parents freaking love you and when we fly down to Georgia next week they’re going to be comparing me to you and get sad that their son has settled and probably secretly plot to get the two of you back together…”

“Kent, Kent, Kenny…” Kent finally stops, wondering how many times Jack actually said his name before Kent heard him.

“Kent, I want you to listen to me. D’accord?”

Kent stops pacing and draws the blinds to block out the lights from the streets and the buildings. “I’m listening.”

“All you need to do is use your best manners and be yourself. Don’t try too hard.”

Kent pauses, then finds his way to the sofa and buries his fingers into Kit’s fur. She blinks at him before stretching. “Jack, that is….not helpful advice at all.”

There’s a moment of silence and Kent has to wonder if he’s offended Jack. “Kenny, it’s going to be fine,” Jack finally states, and there’s not a hint of frustration or condescension. “They’ll see how much you love him and then they’re going to love you. Just compliment Suzanne on her cooking and let her mother you a bit, and talk to Rick about sports and let him parent you a bit, and it’ll be fine. I promise.”

“I’m not the first or second guy he’s taken home, though.”

“That’s true, but Bits doesn’t take someone home unless it’s serious. They know that. Talk to him Kenny, it’ll be okay.”

**

“Honey?”

Kent blinks, then looks at his boyfriend’s bemused expression. “Sorry, did you say something?”

Bitty raises an eyebrow. “I’ve been talking for ten minutes straight, but I don’t think you’ve heard a word I’ve been saying.”

Kent squirms, fiddles with his fork. “Sorry. I’m listening. I mean, you’re right; I wasn’t paying attention, but I am now. Promise.”

Bitty carefully lays his knife down on his plate, then pushes it to the side. “I think you should maybe do a little more talking than listening right now,” he says gently.

Kent bites his lip. As much as he’d like to avoid the conversation, he knows there’s no evading or charming his way out of it. “What if your parents hate me?”

“Oh Honey…”

“No Bits, I’m post-Jack Zimmermann. I mean, obviously you don’t mind settling for second best, but I have a feeling your parents aren’t going to agree.” 

He wants to take the words back, not immediately, but the moment Bitty’s face falls and his eyes look like they could fill up with tears. They don’t, and Bitty just shifts his chair so that he’s sitting closer to Kent.

“I’m sorry-“ Kent begins, but stops when Bitty lays a hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to apologize for your feelings, but Honey, I’m asking you to trust me when I say that you are not second best, and my parents are not going to think so either. I promise.” He leans in, places a closed-mouth kiss to Kent’s lips. “And even if they don’t like you, on the tiny, tiny chance that they won’t, I’m still gonna love you.”

**

The Georgia heat is thicker, heavier than the desert heat that Kent has grown accustomed to. Atlanta finally bleeds out and Madison reminds him of the small towns outside of Syracuse, though much more antebellum, of course. Kent’s uncomfortable, dragged down by the humidity and his own nerves, but Bitty is thrumming with excitement next to him and it’s impossible not to be at least a little bit happy.

Kent’s stomach churns the closer they get to the Bittles.’ He could honestly stay in the car with Bitty forever if it meant that he could avoid meeting Bitty’s parents. It’s not as if he’s never spoken to them; they’ve talked over skype several times and had perfectly warm, pleasant conversations. But it’s not the first impressions that Kent is really worried about, but the moment the other shoe could drop.

“We’re ahead of schedule,” Bitty breaks into Kent’s train of thought, “so we have some time to take the quick tour. How bout it?”

Kent is a fan of delaying the inevitable. “Sure,” he chokes out.

Kent’s therapist is always talking about mindfulness, so Kent tries to focus on what Bitty is telling him, paying attention to what he’s pointing out, but he can’t help but analyze Bitty’s body language, the way he talks about his old high school, the restaurants and stores and other spots about town. There’s a fondness in his tone, but not so much nostalgia. He’s outgrown Georgia, left behind the parts that weren’t good for him.

It makes Kent think that maybe he really is able to be part of Bitty’s future.

They pull into the Bittles’ drive and there’s a 40-second argument over who will carry their bags. “Honey, you’re a guest here.” “Bits, I can’t look like a deadbeat in front of your parents.” Bitty not only manages to win the argument and yank their bags away from Kent’s reach, but he also succeeds in distracting everyone by dropping the bags the moment Rick and Suzanne walk out the front door, exclaiming and running toward them like a scene straight out of a movie

Kent doesn’t have time to feel sick to his stomach, because Suzanne pulls him into a hug as soon as Bitty leaves her embrace and turns to hug Rick. 

“You’re so much more handsome in person, Kent.”

Kent actually nearly says ‘aw shucks’ but instead breaks into a nervous smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Bittle. Er, Suzanne,” he corrects when she gives him her gentle but reproachful look. “I mean, that is, uh, thank you, for having me.”

“Oh honey, we’re so excited that you’re finally here.”

“Good to properly meet you, Son.” Rick Bittle is not the most intimidating man that Kent has ever met, not by a long shot, but his firm handshake and clap on the back, albeit friendly, are still enough to make Kent’s stomach do somersaults. 

“It’s wonderful to be here Sir,” Kent answers. It sounds awkward to Kent’s own ears, but Rick is just grabbing the bags and Suzanne is ushering them into the house and everyone is talking as if Kent has been in the family forever. It relaxes Kent, a little, but he knows what Southern hospitality is, and he figures he still has his work cut out for him.

**

“Honey,” Kent hears murmured into his ear, followed immediately by soft kisses placed on his chest and shoulder. Kent sighs and reaches for Eric. It’s not until he pries his eyes open that he remembers where they are.

“What are you doing?” Kent whispers.

“What does it look like, Handsome?” Eric’s drawl has gotten thicker in the fifteen hours that they’ve been in Georgia.

“Bits, your parents…”

“Are probably doing the same thing we are.” Bitty continues to places kisses across Kent’s chest, this time with more purpose.

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s supposed to get me in the mood…”

“Take a look around. This is a guest bedroom, not Dicky’s old bedroom. They don’t care what we get up to.”

Kent does look around, but his brain, rather unhelpfully, decides to conjure images of Bitty here with Jack. He’s not sure if he feels insecure or jealous, and then decides that it just feels strange.

“Hey,” Bitty’s voice is gentle. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want. I just wanted to start your birthday out right.” 

Kent sighs. “I think I just…can you hold me?” He’s formulating more explanation; he’s tired from traveling and so on, but Bitty just spoons him from behind and  
it reminds Kent of just why things are so good between them.

“You should get some more sleep,” Bitty murmurs. “I have to get up in a minute, start getting stuff ready for the picnic today, but I’ll come wake you up before breakfast, okay?”

“Okay Bits,” Kent murmurs, but he’s already feeling the pull of sleep.

**

As promised, Bitty wakes him up in time to shower and by the time Kent makes his way downstairs, he’s being handed a cup of coffee that’s prepared exactly the way he takes it and a chorus of three ‘happy birthdays.’ Breakfast is pretty light, undoubtedly to leave room for the copious amounts of food that Bitty has warned him will be present at the picnic later.

“Do you mind helping Rick set up at the park while Dicky and I finish up here?” Suzanne asks at the same time she’s determinedly not allowing Kent to help with loading the dishwasher.

“I don’t think we need to put the young man to work on his birthday,” Rick drawls.

“Oh no, I don’t mind,” Kent quickly interjects. He’s helped Bitty in the kitchen and knows that one sous chef is the perfect number, and nothing is more awkward than standing around and feeling useless.

“I have some errands to run,” Rick explains as Kent is buckling himself into the passenger seat of the pickup. “Gotta pick up some ammo for skeet shootin’. You shoot, Son?”

“Oh, not since before my dad died,” Kent replies, and then immediately wonders if he’s made things awkward, but Rick just lays a hand on his shoulder momentarily before backing out of the driveway. “Well,” he continues, “I’ll show you my collection here in the next coupla days, at the very least.”

It doesn’t occur to Kent what this probably means until Rick is deep in conversation about ammunition with the salesmen. Kent manages to step away and type out a text to Jack, as discreetly as one can while screaming internally and panicking.

_Rick just told me that he would show me his rifle collection. He’s talking to some sales guy about ammo rn. Scared shitless._

Kent doesn’t actually expect a reply right away, but it’s only moments later that Jack responds.

_:D haha_

_I hate you. Wtf, Zimms?_

_That’s actually a good sign. It means he likes you._

_?????_

_It means he’s thinking long term._

Kent doesn’t have time to demand an explanation before Rick is finished and they’re headed off to set up.

**

The picnic goes better than Kent could have predicted, though he isn’t sure what he was expecting in the first place. He tries to take Jack’s advice to be himself, though he can’t quite turn off what Bitty has termed “adorkable charm” but Swoops has termed “schmoozing.” It seems to work, anyway, and everyone is nice and seem to go beyond polite inquiries to actually being interested in hearing about Kent, about Vegas, about the work Eric is doing in Vegas. Kent watches Eric, both to get a sense of what is and is not appropriate here in Madison, and to satisfy his own curiosity about how he might be different, down here in Georgia, in the place that both made him who he is but also wouldn’t let him be himself. 

**

Bitty is busy making a makeshift bed in the back of Rick’s pickup, and Suzanne reminds them to “have fun and be careful,” while actually winking at them. Kent is mildly amused but mostly just relieved. When they get to their destination, Kent relaxes further when he see’s that it’s a little field kind of hidden away. The night is clear and Kent kicks off his sandals as he lays back and pulls his boyfriend into his arms.

“Um, I have to tell you something.”

Kent can feel his heartrate quicken in panic. “Your parents hate me.”

“Oh Honey, no, of course not. Mama adores you. She couldn’t stop going on about how sweet and handsome you are.”

“Your dad took me to buy ammo and talked to me about his rifle collection.”

“Yeah, we’re all gonna go skeet shooting tomorrow. It’s a charity event, you’ll have fun.”

“I got the impression he was trying to send me a message.”

“It means he likes you. He’s just thinking ahead.”

Kent really wants to figure out Rick Bittle’s communication via talk of guns and if somewhere in the translation there’s a line about having parts of his anatomy shot off if he hurts Rick’s only son, but he’s more curious to know just what Bitty wants to talk about. “Well, Babe, what do you need to tell me?”

The light has faded, but Kent can make out Bitty’s large, dark eyes, looking earnestly up at him. “Just that I brought Jack out here, a few years ago.” He bites his lip. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you, I just didn’t wanna keep stuff from you. I’m not….it’s not like….it’s just, this is my favorite spot, you know? I want to have this memory here, with you.”

Kent thinks about his own birthday memory with Jack curled up next to him. “I get it Bits.” The silence between them is heavy, but not uncomfortable. “Thank you. For bringing me here.”

“Here to this spot or here to Madison?”

“Both.” The first round of fireworks goes off, red and blue and gold. “You know, when I was really little, I thought the fireworks were for my birthday.” Kent is about to make some self-deprecating remark, but he’s interrupted by Bitty curling in closer to him. “That’s adorable Honey.”

**

It’s late when they get back to the house, and they enter as quietly as they can. “Let’s get these clothes off and grab a shower; it’s so muggy out there,” Eric murmurs.

“Sounds like a plan,” Kent whispers back. “Do you want to go first?”

Kent has used the phrase “Bambi eyes” to describe the beautiful orbs that Eric Bittle likes to control him with, but right now they seem to more closely resemble a satyr’s. “Bless your heart, Kent Parson. How am I supposed to blow you in the shower if we don’t go in together?”

Kent bites his bottom lip, because on the one hand, yes, and on the other, there’s the minor detail that they’re all apparently going to be handling rifles tomorrow and Kent is mildly terrified of his boyfriend’s parents, regardless of the fact that he and Bitty are grown men.

“Now I know that your birthday is officially over, but I’ve got a few more fireworks I’d like to light.”

It is the cheesiest line that Kent has ever heard, but Bitty is wearing a tank and shorts that show off just how much of his athletic build that he’s retained, and his accent is thick and sweet like honey, and there’s some combination of lust and affection on Bitty’s face that Kent is not able to say no to, which is exactly why Kent eventually decides he will never watch porn again, because when he’s standing under the cascading water, one hand clamped over his mouth, he’s memorizing the image of Bitty, eyes locked on Kent’s face, rivulets rushing down his face and his mouth wrapped around Kent’s cock.

**

Kent is awake too early, but can’t bring himself to feel cranky about it when he gets to gaze at his sleeping boyfriend and marvel at how innocent he looks with his arms wrapped around Senor Bun, especially considering only hours ago he’d shoved Kent’s face into the pillow while he’d attempted to fuck him through the mattress. 

“If you were sentient, I’d give you a whole bale of alfalfa or something to make up for what you’ve had to witness,” Kent murmurs as he tweaks the rabbit’s ear.

He quietly makes his way to the kitchen and starts coffee, briefly considering whether he should attempt to start breakfast, but Suzanne is next to him before too long, getting mugs out and patting him on the shoulder. “Didn’t think you’d be up so early; you must be worn out from yesterday.”

Kent’s mind immediately goes to the most inappropriate place possible and he can’t stop the blush from spreading across his cheeks, but if Suzanne notices, she doesn’t comment.

**

The shooting event is interesting. Kent’s nerves aren’t exactly alleviated when Bitty lays a hand in the small of his back and tells him that “If someone tells you that you shoot like a girl that’s a compliment,” but everything is much more relaxed than he could have anticipated. He does have to keep himself from staring at Bitty as Bitty lines up his rifle and aims, lest he have an embarrassing reaction in front of some fourteen-year-old girls who are definitely kicking everyone’s ass at skeet-shooting.

It’s all starting to come a little easier by the time Kent finds himself assisting at the grill that evening, he and Rick having found a mutual appreciation for fire and baseball. “Thanks for having me here, Sir,” Kent finally says when the conversation hits a lull, and finds that he doesn’t have to try to sound sincere at all. Rick looks contemplative for a moment, then simply smiles and says “you’re welcome here any time, Son.” There’s no questioning the sincerity, or everything that he’s left unsaid but communicated anyway.

Later, after the house is dark and quiet, Kent pushes Eric down on the bed and takes him apart, sucking a mark on his hip that no one else will see.

**

The rest of the week ticks by easily, the only heaviness present in the mid-summer humidity. Kent watches Eric in the kitchen. He’s always known that there’s something old-fashioned about the way Eric cooks and bakes, but now he can see that it’s something rooted within him, not just something he does, but something he is, a part of himself that he shares generously but also carefully guards, something that he gives back to the culture into which he was born, but also something that he takes and makes into his own.

Kent marvels at the way a place that’s so different from anywhere he’s ever been can feel so much like home. 

**

The flight back to Vegas is a late afternoon one, leaving time for a leisurely brunch and talk of plans for the fall, Thanksgiving perhaps, and getting together with Kent’s mom and sister. It feels good, and nothing like wishful thinking or empty promises.

The drive to Atlanta and the wait to board is filled with easy conversation about off-season training, various NHL teams, Bitty’s job, Bitty’s Samwell friends, and gossip about Madison that Bitty somehow hadn’t managed to parse within the last week.

It’s not until they’ve reached cruising altitude and Kent has moved the armrest so that they can lean into one another that Eric quietly asks him if he had a good time.

“I did,” Kent replies without hesitation. “You too?”

“I did,” Eric says, and gives a wry smile. “Georgia can be hard to love, but I can’t help it.”

“Yeah, you’re good at that.”

“Hmm?”

“Loving things that are hard to love.”

The smile Kent gets in return threatens to make his heart skip a beat. “You’re like all my favorite parts though,” Bitty murmurs, low enough that only Kent can hear.


End file.
